


Protecting my devotion

by Godgifu87



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 10:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16830796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godgifu87/pseuds/Godgifu87
Summary: The clash in the Aracheole Fortress has put a strain on Gladio Amicitia's self-confidence. Of course, it had been hard when they had learned that Insomnia had fallen and that they had turned into castaways on a raft in the open sea without a land to return; it had been humiliating to learn that his father and the King had sent them away from the Crown City without trust enough to inform them about the date of the signing of the treaty with Niflheim and the real treat that armistice represented; he had thought he would have died in the Disc of Cauthess when Titan had done everything to smash him and Noctis. But nothing had prepared him for the humiliation suffered from Ravus Nox Fleuret, the High Commander of the Imperial Forces and brother of Her Grace Lunafreya.To protect Noctis Lucis Caelum, to live up to his journey and the role he is required, Gladio can only challenge Gilgamesh, the Blademaster.





	Protecting my devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pro Aris et Focis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14022840) by [Godgifu87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godgifu87/pseuds/Godgifu87). 



**So, basically this isn't an unpublished work. This was originally part of my long-fic _Pro Aris et Focis._ Since many readers don't like long stories or OCs, I thought of rewriting two central chapters I liked: my version of _Episode Gladiolus_. It contains some canon parts and many original ideas about Gladio's grandfather (since his family has long served as Sworn Shield protecting the kings of Lucis, why is Clarus' father never mentioned?) and Cor Leonis' past. I hope you'll like it.**

**PROTECTING MY DEVOTION**

**EPISODE GLADIOLUS**

**I**

Those last days had been the most difficult of Gladiolus Amicitia's life. Of course, it had been hard when they had learned that Insomnia had fallen and that they had turned into castaways on a raft in the open sea without a land to return; it had been humiliating to learn that his father and the King had sent them away from the Crown City without trust enough to inform them about the date of the signing of the treaty with Niflheim and the real treat that armistice represented; he had thought he would have died in the Disc of Cauthess when Titan had done everything to smash him and Noctis. But nothing had prepared him for the humiliation suffered by Ravus Nox Fleuret, the High Commander of the Imperial Forces and brother of Her Grace Lunafreya. He, Gladio Amicitia, had opposed Titano's fists - an Astral - and yet Ravus had been able to block his broadsword and knock him out without he could doing anything to react.

_A weak shield protects naught._

He had been beaten, humiliated, literally put on his knees. He had felt _mighty_ because he had clashed with Titan and had brought Noctis unscathed out of Disc of Cauthess – even there, after all, if Ardyn Izunia hadn't shown up they would have died buried by scorching rocks – and a few days after he discovered that Ravus Nox Fleuret was able to kick his ass without even deigning to use his left arm. If he wanted to kill Noctis, Gladio could have done very little to prevent it.

Moreover, returning to Lestallum, they had found out that Jared Hester had been killed by the Empire.

That afternoon, as they drove Iris safely to Cape Caem, his sister asleep against his shoulder, Ignis had urged them to look at the view. They were crossing a bridge, and Gladio had hold his breath recognizing the Taelpar Crag. The molten rocks, then solidified into thin jagged filaments protruding from the precipice walls, similar to outstretched fingers, were characteristic of that cursed place. Down there many brave men had underwent the Gilgamesh Trial. The remnants of his grandfather Remus were still there – if credit was given to the rumors, his soul still haunted the place along with all the warriors who had tried and failed the Trial. The Gilgamesh Trial was a taboo subject for Cor Leonis, and Remus Amicitia was a taboo subject for his father, but Gladio knew enough about it from everyone else. Under the Fault there was the millennial Sworn Shield of King Somnus Lucis Caelum, ready to prove anyone who challenged him.

 _Gladio, don't even think about it_ , he had said to himself, but that idea had clung behind his throat like a sharp hook.

That night, after yet another infiltration into an Imperial base - Fort Vaullerey, where they had incapacitated Caligo Ulldor, the responsible for Jared's death, and messed up the base just to revenge his elderly family butler - Gladio had stayed with his sister for a long time after his friends had gone to bed, sitting beside her, waiting for her to fall asleep which it hadn't happened for many years. Iris had survived their father's death and the fall of Insomnia unharmed, but Jared's death before her eyes had been too much, and Gladio felt powerless about it. Not to mention Talcott.

Unable to fall asleep in turn, he went down to the beach and sat down on the shore to watch the Cygilla Sea. For hours he seethed with his hatred towards the Empire, reproaching himself for leaving Iris, Talcott and Jared at Lestallum without protection. For hours he seethed with his hatred towards Ravus Nox Fleuret, regretting he wasn't stronger, dreadfully stronger than he could be. Continuing to train when camping, accepting easy hunting missions, tearing down daemons at night wasn't enough. He couldn't progress fast enough to live up to that journey and the role he was required. For hours he seethed with the decision he had already made and the phone call he had pushed back until then.

 _Father_ , he thought, pulling at last the phone from his pocket. _You wouldn't approve at all, but only one thing I can do comes to my mind._

He called Cor Leonis.

"Cor?" he said immediately, when he answered. His voice sounded in his own ears like a broken boy's one. "Sorry 'bout the time. I hope I didn't wake you up."

"No problem. Did something happen, Gladio?"

"We're all fine," he hastened to reassure him. "We got to Cape Caem safe and sound. Ulldor is packaged and is travelin' to your camp."

"I apologize for what happened, Gladio. I had assured you that your sister and the others would be safe. I should have had them escorted to Cape Caem well before you called me."

"You can't think of everyone, Cor. And Iris is my sister. My responsibility. Thanks for sending Monica, by the way."

"Don't even mention it. Is there anything else?"

Gladio closed his eyes. _Here we are._ "Actually there is. Got a favor to ask you. While the others look for the mithril needed to repair the yacht, I'd like you to accompany me to the Taelpar Crag."

An icy silence followed. "Are you insane, Gladio? What the hell has happened?"

"I'll tell you as soon as we meet, if you accept. For now, just know that in Aracheole Fortress I crossed swords with Ravus Nox Fleuret, and he humiliated me. I can't think of any other way to improve quickly, Cor. I'm very well aware of what I'm asking you, but I'll go anyway, so feel free to refuse."

"Gladio, do you have any idea about what's down there? Gilgamesh is a deadly challenge, but even _getting_ to Gilgamesh is a dangerous undertaking."

"I know it all too well. That's why I don't ask you to accompany me _inside_. Your role is fundamental and I don't want anything to happen to you for my personal quest. I only ask you to show me the way to the ruins and explain to me in detail what I'll face."

"Gladio, reconsider your decision."

"Too late. I've made up my mind. D'you accept to accompany me, Marshal?"

Cor was silent for so long that Gladio persuaded himself that his answer would be negative.

"When?"

He was so relieved that his voice trembled. "Tomorrow. Can you do that?"

"I can, if I leave at dawn. Gladio, tell me: what will the Prince do if you don't come back? Have you thought about that?"

He had thought about it ad nauseam. It was the only argument that still held him back. "Cor," he replied, using Ravus' words. " _A weak shield protects naught._ If I don't come back, it will mean that I wouldn't have lived up to my role anyway."

Another deep sigh. "See you tomorrow late morning at Crow's Nest in Old Lestallum."

"Thank you." Gladio rubbed his eyes. He was terrified and excited at the idea. "I am grateful to you, Cor. See you tomorrow at Old Lestallum, then."

"Gladio..." Cor said again. "Only fools never change their mind. If it happens, call me anytime. Not the best idea, letting yourself be carried away by pride."

"It won't happen, because I don't have any more pride. See you tomorrow, Cor."

**II**

When he entered the Crow's Nest diner at Old Lestallum, Cor Leonis was already sitting at the counter, waiting for him. In his hands he had a cup of long coffee: since he had known him, Gladio had never seen him drink alcohol.

"Hi, Cor. Thanks again for coming." He sat on the stool next to his and when the man at the counter came to ask him what he was having, he ordered a glass of water. He would have willingly thrown back a bottle of whiskey, but it wasn't the right time. "News 'bout Ulldor?"

"He hadn't gotten to the camp yet, when I left this morning," Cor replied, shaking his head. "I gave orders for him to be welcomed with all the due honors in my absence. I must confess, however, that this wasn't a good time to walk away; Monica and Dustin are in Cape Caem, as you know."

"I understand, and I'm even more grateful to you for bein' here. Let's go. The sooner we go, the faster we return."

"The Blademaster could be the last thing you will see in your life. Before leading you to the Taelpar Crag, Gladio, I want to know why you're doing it."

Gladio moistened his lips, sighed, and told him in detail what had happened in the Aracheole Stronghold. "Ravus Nox Fleuret thrashed me," he concluded. "I can't protect the True King if I'm not even able to compete with the Imperial High Commander. And I can't demand Noctis to behave like a real king if I don't live up to being his Shield."

Cor nodded slowly. "Then I ask you again, Gladiolus: are you ready?"

"Never been more ready. Let's go."

**III**

The Taelpar Crag was very impressive, seen from above, but from the bottom it was scary. The rock fingers loomed over them, as if they were about to break and pierce them at any moment, and their voices were the only sound that broke the silence of that place. Even the wind that crossed the crevasse, for some kind of physical phenomenon, didn't whistle.

"Did you explain to the others the reason for your leaving?" Cor asked, walking.

Gladio shook his head. "I didn't want them to worry. I just told them I had business to attend to."

Cor didn't comment in any way. "Where are they heading?"

"To the Steyliff Grove, near Vesperpool, to look for mithril to repair the royal yacht."

"They'll be fine. Think about yourself."

"I'll do it."

The entrance to the ruins was similar to that of many caves in which Gladio and his friends had advanced, apart from the macabre detail of the corpses pierced against the rocky walls. They should have been bones or dust by then, especially judging by the ancient shape of the armor they still wore.

"Mh. A nice place, huh?" he forced himself to joke, but he stopped smiling when he saw Cor Leonis' tense look, a few steps behind him. He had almost forgotten what it meant for him to return to that place.

"Focus, Gladio," he reprimanded him hard. "As I told you tonight, even getting to Gilgamesh is a dangerous undertaking."

Gladio noticed it when, once they had passed through the narrow tunnel, the corpses stood up – mummified limbs, rusty armor – and attacked them.

"What about them?" he asked, blocking the lunge of the nearest. The spirit was thrown back two feet away. Fortunately, they seemed rather frail.

Although he said he wouldn't physically help him, Cor put his hand to the handle of his katana and got rid of two others. "The souls of the warriors once loyal to Gilgamesh. They're here to test those who want to undergo the Trial."

"Why are you helping me, then?"

Cor pulped another. "Because, as you can see, they are very poor adversaries. I wasn't referring to them when I told you that it won't be easy to get to the Trial."

Rubbing the sweat from his forehead, Gladio turned to look at him, but Cor didn't say anything else. Once the opponents had been eliminated, they continued along the tunnel that narrowed more and more. He couldn't help but notice the torches lighting their way, and he wondered if they had always been lit or if the Blademaster knew that a new challenger had come.

The path stopped in front of an underground stream. Leaning over, Gladio saw that a few feet away, it turned into a small waterfall, but from there he couldn't see where it was flowing. He turned to Cor who, with an enigmatic gesture, shrugged and pointed to the stream.

Gladio slid into the cold water. The waterfall didn't run precipitously, because the ground was only slightly sloping, and he landed standing into a shallow pond. He turned to see where Cor was, but out of nowhere a huge snake emerged, five times bigger than a Naga.

Cor slipped behind him, the katana already in his hand. "Brunnrsormr. The guard at the entrance to the Path of Challenges. It won't be a big trouble either. Come on, let's get rid of it."

It wasn't, in fact, even though the snake, like the Naga they had faced, seemed to have the power to dive into the shallow water as if it had been deep and to re-emerge beneath their feet, or behind them. Although he had a good understanding in battle with his other three friends, he had trained with Cor since he was a kid and their fighting styles fit perfectly, not to mention that the Immortal was one of the best warriors in all of Eos. It took them a few minutes to get rid of Brunnrsormr.

Gladio bent down on his knees to catch his breath. When he raised his back, he had the impression that the light in the cave had diminished, and he no longer felt Cor's presence near him. He looked around, alarmed, especially as the light continued to fade until he found himself almost in the dark.

A violet light attracted his attention. The violet light seemed to acquire consistency until it condensed into the body of an extraordinarily tall warrior armed with a long katana. He began to walk slowly towards him, becoming more and more tangible with every step.

"You come to prove yourself worthy of your role?" he asked, with his millennial-old voice.

Gladio swallowed. He had to tilt his head up to face him, and that had never happened to him with a human adversary. "I do. I am here to undertake the Trial of Gilgamesh."

Gilgamesh was wearing a decorated silver mask. Instead of his eyes, Gladio saw two reddish lights burning. "And what is it you hope to glean?"

"Power," Gladio answered promptly, clenching his fist. "And you're gonna give it to me."

"Is that so?" the adversary replied with a mocking note in his voice. He made the katana disappear, and only then did Gladio notice that his left arm was missing.

The katana reappeared suddenly, and Gilgamesh attacked him.

Gladio managed to block his blow. Cor had told him it wasn't easy to get to the Trial, and he had talked about a Path of Challenges. He wasn't ready to confront the Blademaster so early, but so much the better.

Gilgamesh was fast and powerful, but not impossible to defeat. Gladio soon realized that that friendly match was a first test, a skirmish, certainly not the Trial.

"Brute force alone does little to impress," Gilgamesh said, pressing him. "Only he who possessed both muscle and mettle of equal caliber deserves the honor of fighting beside the Chosen King as his Sworn Shield."

_A weak shield protects naught._

"You're saying I don't?" he shouted.

Gilgamesh pushed back his block, as Ravus Nox Fleuret had done, but didn't counterattack. However, Gladio was warded off in the water.

"A great evil threatens the people of your world. It is but the King of Kings and his Shield who can safeguard their lives."

_A great evil… is he referring to the Starscourge or to Niflheim?_

"All those unworthy or unwilling to rise to the task meet their end here, by my blade." He pointed it at him in a warning.

Gladio got up. "I ain't meeting mine any time soon. This Trial hasn't even begun."

"If you do not fear death, then go forth with reckless abandon and prove your worth." Gilgamesh lowered the katana, and his body dissolved into a cloud of purple light as it had appeared.

IV

He found Cor further, beyond the pond. He was waiting for him, and judging by his look, he too, thirty years ago, must have talked to Gilgamesh in that very place.

"He accepted you as a challenger, huh?"

Gladio didn't answer. Although he had ended up knees down in the water, he felt galvanized. "Let the Trial begin."

The only viable path now, instead of going down, seemed to lead upwards. Gladio recognized even rudimentary stairs carved into the rock. Perhaps the Crag had really originated from the clash between Ifrit and Bahamut, but certainly men, in some historical moment, had built in that caves.

The revived corpses of Gilgamesh's warriors weren't the only form of life that lived in the crevasse: soon they were attacked by daemons – electric pyros, skeletons and reapers, the latter, with their huge sickles, quite difficult to kill – which they slashed one after the other. They continued to climb upward.

_Your skill is impressive._

It was definitely not Cor's voice. Gladio stopped, looking around, but the Marshal motioned him to continue. "Those are the voices of the warrior souls. Don't be distracted. Let's go on."

_You may have the strength to defeat the darkness._

"Are they talking about the daemons?"

"I guess so."

_But do you have the spirit to survive those trials?_

"Don't listen to them. The first trial is close."

"The first trial?"

Cor nodded, pointing to the stairs to their left. Looking up, Gladio saw a bluish glow. "Here your hand-holding stops, Gladio. Nergal, your first challenger, awaits you there. Before being considered worthy of Gilgamesh, three warrior souls, but don't expect the zombies we have faced so far, will judge you in their trial chambers."

"The path is closed. What do I have to do?"

"You will understand it by yourself. Go up the stairs. And good luck."

Gladio obeyed resolutely. A sort of rock cage blocked his way. In the center, the bluish glow he had seen from below turned out to be a sword tied by ropes from which fragments of cloth hung. He had never seen anything like it, but realized that it must be a sort of seal.

He touched the sword, and at that moment the blue light seemed to explode. The seals disappeared, and only the sword remained – a katana almost as tall as him – stuck in the rock. He pulled it out effortlessly, but it disappeared from his hands.

The rock wall shattered, revealing a hall. With his heart in his throat, but determined to show what he was able to do, Gladio entered. He found himself trapped, because the bars of the rock cage immediately reformed. Apparently, there was no way to withdraw. Fair enough, because he wouldn't have done it anyway.

In front of him, immediately, a cloaked spectrum appeared.

_Prepare yourself, Young Warrior, for the trials that await. Prove your might, and our power shall be yours._

Nergal demonstrated to be a formidable adversary, endowed with three deadly techniques: an apparently poisonous breath, a powerful laser beam, and the ability to throw at him three burning skull-like creatures. After taking a couple of pretty bad blows, Gladio understood how to counter them; to avoid the poisonous breath it was enough to keep a safe distance – his broadsword was long enough to hit the enemy anyway, the laser beam was easily predictable because it originated from a luminous triangle that appeared in the air, and before hurling themselves at him, the blue skulls began to orbit quickly. Gladio pushed every superfluous thought out of his mind and concentrated on dodging and attacking like never before in his life. At last Nergal dissolved.

Once he was alone in the chamber, panting, soaked in sweat, and with his arm aching because of a burn, Gladio understood that he hadn't yet finished his trial; a small stone altar lit up, a blue flame burning on the inside. He bent down to touch it, and at that moment he felt himself pervaded by an energy he had never felt. When he withdrew his hand, his fist shone with the same bluish light.

_Our power goes with you now, Young Warrior._

The light went out and the altar dissolved. Without the voices telling him, Gladio knew that his arm now would be able to ward off Gilgamesh's attacks without wavering. The rock wall behind the altar opened, revealing a new path.

_Stand tall, for the Shield of the King must kneel in subjugation before no man._

"Thank you," Gladio whispered solemnly. He turned to retrace his steps and rejoin Cor before going on, but the Marshal showed himself inside the hall.

"Bravo," he approved with a stern expression. "You have passed the first trial."

Gladio didn't smile. He encircled his right wrist with his other hand, as if he was afraid that, with that new power, it could go off on its own. "I think my parry has improved."

"It's the power conferred by Nergal. Make good use of it."

A few feet ahead, the tunnel leaded again into an open area. To their right Gladio saw a precipice of which he couldn't see the bottom, but what most interested him was a spot clearly equipped for a campfire, probably by a group of previous challengers.

"Let's stop and rest for a while," Cor said, looking at his clock. "It doesn't look like it, but we've been down here for three hours."

Gladio had lost the sense of time, and only then realized how exhausted he was. He sat heavily on the ground, his back against the rock, and hugged his legs, resting his forehead on his knees. He felt that Cor was sitting next to him. He closed his eyes. His intention was simply to relax and regain his strength, but he fell into a dreamless sleep.

When he raised his forehead, Cor was still in the same stance next to him, the grip of the katana on his knees. He must not have slept so much.

"Twenty minutes," the Marshal anticipated him. "Don't worry, Gladio. Rest as long as you want. The road is still long."

Slowly, Gladio began to flex his fingers and limbs to reactivate the circulation. He stretched out his legs and spine, made his neck crackle. "Just a few minutes more."

"You should put something on that wound."

Gladio followed his advice. He retrieved the bottle of water and cleaned his wound, stoically enduring the pain, then bandaged his forearm. It wasn't a serious wound, but he was still drowsy, and he knew that if they remained silent, he would fall asleep again.

"Got a question for you, Cor. Get it right." Uneasily, Gladio scratched his hairline. He had known him for a lifetime, but finding himself alone with Cor Leonis the Immortal, feeling examined by his glacial eyes, continued to put him in awe. "Years haven't affected your mastery in the slightest. And now, compared to the last time you came down in these ruins, you've a lot more wisdom and experience in battle. Haven't you thought 'bout trying the Trial again?"

"To survive the Trial," he answered, "brute force is not enough. You need a strong determination. And to have a strong determination, you need the right reasons. I won't challenge Gilgamesh again for a matter of pride, to heal a wound I suffered when I was an arrogant kid. I wouldn't come out alive, and I don't want to die unnecessarily."

Gladio blinked, resting his elbows on his knees. He could understand perfectly what Cor meant. He too would have preferred to die for Noctis, rather than in a duel against Gilgamesh, but he had no choice. "And what were your reasons, the first time?"

Cor Leonis narrowed his eyes, took a deep breath, and put himself into a more comfortable position. "Here's the short version: I was very young. The long version is _very_ long. Thought your father had told you about it. Are you sure you want to hear it right now?"

"Start telling me a part of it while we're catching our breath."

Cor took his bottle and drank for a long time, slowly, taking all the time in the world, rubbed his lips with the back of his hand, then started talking. "When I was thirteen, I lied about my age and joined the army. I was born in the suburbs of Insomnia. I never met my father, and my mother died when I was a child. I lived on the street."

"My father mentioned something to me over the years, but always in flattering terms, to underline that it's not the blue blood that makes a Crownsguard."

Although it wasn't cold, Cor closed his jacket. They had never talked like that, so openly, and it filled him with pride and affection. "The necessities of war took away many resources, first of all economic, from the city. Forty years ago, many suburbs of Insomnia were in the same conditions as today's refugee neighborhoods: places of misery where the City Guard has no power and where the influence of the King himself struggles to arrive. Growing up in one of these ghettos was already life training. You worked hard, Gladio, for fifteen years, but believe me, there are things that you only learn when your survival is constantly endangered, as you're certainly discovering now."

Gladio blushed, and just nodded. Every day he clashed his forehead against the fact that, however perfectly trained – or so he believed – the daily dangers outside Insomnia concealed a large number of unpredictable variables that didn't allow mistakes. "Perhaps, then," he ventured to say, "my training should have provided at least one period outside of Insomnia. The others and I saw magiteks and daemons for the first time just two weeks ago."

"The matter was discussed, at the beginning. Clarus would have allowed it. But Regis pointed out that, according to his personal opinion, to protect his son he preferred a less ready Shield than a dead Shield."

"I can't say I agree with the King's personal opinion," Gladio smiled. "Since I'm here today because I prefer to be a dead Shield than a weak Shield."

From the way he looked at him, Gladio realized that a part of Cor – the reckless 15-year-old kid who had come out of the Taelpar Crag thirty years earlier – approved of him, but the practical Marshal who he had become was still deciding. Gladio shrugged shortly. "So," he returned to the subject, "you enlisted at thirteen."

Cor nodded. "Yeah. The Council of the time promoted a convincing campaign of enlistment that, as you can imagine, took a good grip in the suburbs. They'd offer a decent pay, even if not commensurate with the dangers, and above all the citizenship to the refugees who would enlist and fight for at least two years. History repeating itself: the Kingsglaives as well were almost all poor citizens of the Crown City or refugees from the outer provinces. Hunger and despair make the soldier good, they say, and it's true. I wasn't particularly fond of King Mors at the time, nor was I led by particular patriotism, but I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I enlisted. I had no papers, like most people who showed up, and I was tall, hardened by street life, so when I said I was sixteen, nobody questioned my age, or maybe those who selected me didn't care so much. I put a signature, they gave me a uniform, a sword and a rifle, and they sent me out of the walls of Insomnia after three months of training."

Gladio listened raptly. He knew several details of Cor's past, through his father's stories, but he had never heard them told from his voice. "You fought on the western defensive line, didn't you?"

Cor nodded. "For six months. The magitek infantry had just been implemented, and the Kingdom didn't quite know how to counter it. Thousands of soldiers died. During the same year – it was 724 – King Mors' young scion, an 18-year-old swagger named Regis, got on the western front with his retinue. He wanted to fight alongside his men to defend his country, and that was his baptism of blood." He smirked. "He saw a lot of it, even his own. A few days later, in the confusion of a battle, Clarus was engaged in a fight against a MT-K, far from Regis, and the heir to the throne risked being cracked wide open by a Spearman. I prevented him to die."

Gladio knew that part of the story quite well, he and the whole Insomnia. "A thirteen-year-old of obscure birth, a simple soldier enlisted a few months before, saved the life of the heir to the throne. And so the Immortal's legend began."

"When King Mors found out that the soldier who had saved his son was thirteen, he withdrew me from the front, appointed me Crownsguard and assigned me to the Prince's retinue."

"From simple soldier to Crownsguard in six months. A nice promotion."

"Your father wasn't so glad of it," the Marshal grimaced.

Gladio laughed and stood up. He had rested enough, and it was about time to go on. "He said that at the time you were cheeky and arrogant; an annoying street brat, without filters, without diplomacy, who didn't mince words."

Cor stood up as well. "Young Clarus' pride had suffered a pretty big blow. A street brat had saved the life of the Prince of Insomnia in his place. But he wasn't wrong in thinking so of me, after all."

"He'd also say," Gladio added, "that you were a child prodigy. He had never seen anyone fight so ferociously and progress so fast. And indeed your abilities soon surpassed his own."

"Come on, Gladio," the Immortal urged him. "Today we'll see if those of his son will surpass mine."


End file.
